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I just read a blog post that has really got me thinking. It started with a tweet on Twitter. Anita1956 said, “Would I take the straight pill? Here’s my answer.” with a link to her blog http://tinyurl.com/aa78mp. Here’s what she said:

If taking such a pill would replace the love I have for my wife with an equal love for a man

…..And we could legally marry

…..And we would be granted full rights under the law without fighting for them

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill would mean no one would reject me for being who I am

…..And for saying what I believe

…..And for standing boldly as one who follows Christ

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking such a pill could take the world back in time,

…..Before I came out of the closet,

…..Before I said I was gay

…..Before I knew I was gay

…..Before inequality touched me

…..Before hate revealed its ugliness to me

…..Before anyone rejected me

…..Before anything was lost to me

…..Before I ever questioned God’s love for me

…..…..I would not take it.

If taking that pill would make me straight

…..And famous

…..And wealthy

…..And talented

…..And adored

…..And beautiful

…..And thin

……....I would not take it.

……....I would not take it.

……....I. Would. Not. Take. It.

I would never take a pill that would make me straight because

……....I love being who I am

……....I love being whole and free

……….I love seeing the world from where I stand

……....I love knowing God from this place

……....I love feeling passion burning in me for equality

……....I love being part of a people who are courageous and relentless

……....I love being one in Spirit with every queer youth

…………..With every gay man and woman

……………With every bisexual man and woman

…………..With every transman and transwoman

……………With every ally and friend

……………With everyone who questions, doubts and searches

……….And I love being one in Spirit with you

……………Bound in hope, and faith, and love

……………Bound in God

If there was a pill I could take that would make you straight

………..And taking that pill would end all your confusion and anxiety

……….And remove your fear that God has rejected you

……………I would not take that pill even for you.

You are gay.

…..You are not wrong.

…..…..You are not sinful.

…..…..…..You are not evil or perverted.

…..…....…..…You are not unworthy.

…..…..…..…..…..You are not a mistake.

…..…..…..…..…..…..You are not to be ashamed.

You are gay.

…..God loves you.

…..…..God holds you.

…..…..…..God stands with you.

…..…..…..…..God delights in you.

…..…..…..…..…..God calls you “My own.”

If there was a pill that could make me straight

…..And make you straight

…..And you

…..And you

…..And you

……....I would not take it.

……....I would not take it.

……....I. Would. Not. Take. It.

Before I even clicked the link to her blog I answered that question for myself. “Yes! I’d take that pill in a heartbeat!” Being gay is one of the biggest struggles I’ve ever dealt with in my life and most of the time I feel like if I could chose not to be gay, I would.

Growing up in a “Christian” home as a gay boy is an incredible challenge. It is made abundantly clear to you from the beginning that homosexuality is wrong, that homosexuality is a perversion, and that homosexuals are damned for all eternity. There is an incredible amount of fear that is driven into Christian children about hell and sin and damnation and we learn from a very young age that we want to do everything in our power to make sure we don’t go there. This results in tremendous amounts of guilt and shame.

For me, the shame was too much to bear and I denied who I was for most of my life. I chose to believe that I was not gay, that there were other, perfectly legitimate reasons why I was aroused by the images of the male models in the International Male and Undergear catalogues I subscribed to when I was a teenager. I convinced myself that one day, when I met the woman God had in store for me, I would be physically attracted to her and I would feel normal and complete.

I finally began to admit to myself that I was gay and accept who I was about four years ago and I said it out loud for the first time when I told my therapist two years ago. By this time, I had read the bible, The King James version, from cover to cover and learned that what I had been told my entire life was cut and dried, well, it really wasn’t. I learned that there were a lot of discrepancies between the things I had been taught to believe and what I determined for myself in those pages. I learned that while the Bible is an important resource that there is more research to be done and so I did.

I researched on-line the question of whether homosexuality is an immorality, whether it’s a sin and what it means to be gay and a Christian. When it all started, I went in search of something definitive that would tell me what I was already sure must be true: That Homosexuality is, in fact, an irrefutable sin. What I found instead, was a whole lot of the same rhetoric, the same answers and explanations about why homosexuality is wrong, with all of the same holes that I had yet to explain away. The same holes that made me question the accuracy, the validity of what I’d been taught. These holes left me with questions and doubts. The explanations didn’t sit well with me. They didn’t feel… They didn’t feel true. I believe that we all, each of us, possess a spirit that is to some extent or other, in tune with the Holy Spirit. I started to realize that the reason these explanations didn’t feel or seem right to me is because my spirit knew they weren’t. My spirit was hungry for the truth.

So I dug deeper and I found several resources with more information. I found resources that did a better job of explaining what the various Biblical references which are used against us might have really meant. I found scholarly authors who had a deeper understanding of what the times and the languages were like, and how the Bible might have been translated incorrectly over the generations and centuries that have passed. And I found a reminder that the God I love and serve is a loving God who wants the best for me, who wants me to be happy. I finally came to accept that the thoughts and feelings and urges that I was stifling for so many years, close to 30 of them, were normal and natural and a part of me, who I am, the way God made me.

I didn’t take this information lightly, and I didn’t set out to find justification for me to behave in a way that was not morally right. Honestly, I set out to prove, once and for all, that what I was taught my whole life was absolute fact and that I had to continue to suffer until God saw fit change me and make me “normal”. I resisted the things that I read that told me that I was OK as a gay man. I resisted the urge to rejoice at the affirmations that I found because surely, as my mother would have told me were she involved, I was “possessed of the Devil”, I was “being deceived.” Surely it wasn’t possible that I could, in fact, be gay and be acceptable in God’s sight. But the evidence mounted, the case was made over and over again… and my spirit? My spirit was at peace. I stopped hurting. I started healing. I told my four closest friends.

I still struggle with the internalized homophobia that I was raised in. I still struggle with accepting myself, but now, it’s because I’m programmed this way, not because I really believe that there’s anything wrong with whom I am. I have to believe that as time moves on, I’ll struggle less and less and be more and more content in my life.

What I really struggle with, though, is the shame. Not shame because I think there’s something wrong, but shame because I’m so sure everyone else will. I get anxious when I write something like this because I’m sure that someone will read this and tell me that I can’t be both gay and a Christian. (Of course I can.) I’m afraid someone will read this and begin to scrutinize me and my behavior in a different way now that they know I call myself a Christian. (I’m not living my life for those people, but no one likes to be judged.) The truth is I hold myself up to the measure my mother has set out for me and I know I fail miserably. Most days I’m OK with that. I know I will never measure up to her expectations and I know that most of her expectations are unreasonably high anyway, but part of my internal programming is to see her expectations as those of all Christians and I assume I’ll be judged and condemned by all of them for one reason or another once they learn that I call myself one of them. (I don’t really call myself one of them and I suspect that will make for another lengthy blog post in the future, but the terminology is the same even if the intent is different.)

The shame that I struggle with has crippled me with regard to coming out to my family. Not a single member of my family knows that I’m gay while I have to believe some of them may suspect. It is with this knowledge that as I bring this post nearer to its conclusion and prepare to press that “publish” button I am shaking and feeling genuine anxiety about putting this information out there for the world to see. You see, my Twitter account updates my Facebook status. My brother is my only immediate family member who is on Facebook. I post links to my new blog posts on Twitter which means they’ll show up on Facebook as well. It is not a stretch to think that my brother will actually see this post and because I am such a coward, this is how he’s going to learn the truth. Will he say anything to me? I don’t know. Will he tell other members of my family? He might. Am I disappointed in myself that I can’t just say it to them? Of course I am.

So if such a pill existed that could make me straight, would I take it? I’m afraid that is not as simple a question as I first thought it was. I’d be inclined to take it. I’d never have to worry about telling my family the truth. I’d never have to worry about facing the internalized doubts and fears that persist. I’d never have to worry about having to tell people in my daily life. And I’d never have to worry about trying to learn how to date as a gay man, or find someone that I could happily spend the rest of my life with. Life would certainly be easier if I were straight.

On the other hand, maybe taking that pill would be like turning my back on everything that I learned in this process; that God did not make a mistake when he made me; that I am gay because that is how God intended it; that there is nothing wrong with me just because I’m gay; and that God loves me every bit as much today as he did the day I invited him into my heart as my personal Lord and Savior and the only thing that has really changed is, now, I know the truth.

If there was a pill that I could take that would make me straight, would I take it? I’m sad to say that it would be a tough decision to make, but in the end, No, I would not take it.

———————————————————————————————

My special thanks to Anita, author of the blog that started this, first for writing the post to begin with and second, for granting me her blessing to re-post it here for all to see.

Long before I came out officially, to myself, let alone anyone else, I managed to get myself on several gay oriented mailing lists. I don’t honestly remember now how that happened. Once you get on one, it’s not difficult to get on many others, I just don’t remember how the first one came about.

Shortly, after it all started, I was receiving Adam Male catalogs, promotional offers for such magazines as, Men Magazine and Freshmen Magazine, and a myriad of “publications” offering “cheap prices” on porn videos. I was, at the time, a bizarre combination of disgusted and intrigued by these mailings. You know how that works, right? That’s where you sit down (naked usually) looking through the stuff thoroughly (and jerking off) while thinking “I can’t believe they’re sending this crap to me!”

What really concerned me was that every time I moved and those things were addressed to [My Name] or Current Resident, they didn’t get forwarded and the next person who moved in there would receive these pieces of mail and might think that I was gay! Imagine the horror!

One of the catalogs that I received that always stood out to me was the TLA Video catalog. I was always a little bit more fascinated with this one, with the combination of pornographic and non-pornographic items they offered. I would submit that TLA Video could do a better job with these catalogs in that I never realized how “mainstream” some of their offerings were, from the descriptions they had. Until this week-end, that is.

There is a show on Logo that I have, in spite of myself, become completely addicted to called Rick and Steve, The Happiest Gay Couple in All the World. It is one of those shows that is just so wrong that it’s so right and if you haven’t seen it (and you’re not easily offended) you should totally check it out. You can thank me later.

Anyway, Logo is one of those networks that notoriously doesn’t stick to a concise schedule. By that I mean, that Rick and Steve, may be scheduled to start at, say, 7:00. The DVR kicks on at 7:00 to record it and it’ll catch the last 90 seconds of whatever was on before it (usually, The Click List: The Best in Short Film). A couple times now, I’ve caught the tail end of a tale and my response is usually, “Huh?!?!?” so I recently decided that I was going to try and catch some of these broadcasts in an attempt to expand my horizons and avoid the “Huh?!?!?” factor. Since “The Click List” is more of a filler than a regularly scheduled program I went into the guide to scroll through and find when it airs to set the recordings and along the way I found a number of other gay movies that I wanted to catch.

It’s too late to make the long story short but what I’m getting at is this. Along the way, I found “Latter Days“. I read the description of the movie and thought it sounded interesting and then it occurred to me that I remembered seeing this movie in the TLA Video catalogue, with about a 15 word description that A) didn’t do it justice and 2) didn’t sell me on it. I wish it had.

I watched this movie on Saturday, and let me tell you, this movie really moved me, in a way I didn’t think it would be possible for it to do. This is the story of a young Mormon missionary – “Elder” Aaron Davis, sent to Los Angeles for two years of “training” in which he is expected to adhere to a whole list of “not allowed tos”, like drink alcohol, listen to music, use his first name, talk to his family, be alone. And he certainly isn’t permitted to enter into a homosexual relationship.

When Aaron and his three roommates move into their apartment they meet Christian, a young gay man who, despite his appearance in the movie poster quite frequently looks, acts and sounds like Ryan Reynolds (HOT!!!) in this flick. Christian is a hot, young, shallow, sex-crazed, gay man who works as a waiter when he’s not on a conquest. This is established in the first few minutes of the movie in, what is actually a very funny scene where “Chris” seduces a straight man who has arrived to pick up a blind date.

“But I’m straight” he protests to which Chris replies that “it’s always that much hotter when they say that.” He tells the man that he could suck the engine block of an (insert impressive car knowledge I do not have here) through the tail pipe, “That’s right! I’m gay and I know cars.” Cut to the men sitting on the floor of the living room after the dead is done when the suitor asks, “Don’t you worry that Elizabeth will walk in on you?”

After the Mormons move in, Chris makes a bet with his friends in the restaurant where he works, that he can seduce one of them. This is not an original concept by any means but it provides the groundwork for further interaction.

We find out that Aaron is gay but that he is fighting his impulses because, of course, he’s been raise to believe that it’s a sin and he would be excommunicated. You would think that this movie would be formulaic, “boy meets boy”, “boy makes bet he can seduce other boy”, “boy makes other boy fall in love with him only to find out about the bet”, “boy convinces other boy that his feelings are real and he doesn’t care about the bet.” What is original about this film is that it doesn’t follow the formula. You’d think the story would draw to a conclusion with the seduction but in fact the story is jut getting started.

When Aaron is caught, by his roommates, kissing Christian in a moment of weakness, he is sent back to his family where he will be excommunicated. When Chris comes to talk to Aaron and finds out he has already left he chases after Aaron, catching up to him at his lay over in Salt Lake City.

The airport is then closed due to severe weather and the boys must spend the night in an air port hotel waiting for flights to resume. It is here that they make love for the first time and really, truly connect with one another, but in the morning when Chris awakes, Aaron is gone. He’s gone home to his family to face is consequences. Aaron’s family, depicted as very close and loving in the beginning of the movie now is cold and stand-offish. They barely talk to him and will not look at him.

The scene in this movie that really felt familiar to me takes place in the Davis family home when Aaron is alone in the house with his mother. Suddenly, his father works long hours and won’t come home and face his son. Aaron is sitting at the table and picking at his food and his mother takes his plate away as she’s clearing the dishes. He hears a crash and walks into the kitchen to find his mother cleaning up a broken plate and the food that was on it. She’s on her hands and knees as he stands in the doorway.

“Mom” he says as she continues to pick up pieces of plate. “Mom…. Mom.”

“What?!?” she finally says, exasperated but without looking up. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he says as he lowers his head. “I was just wondering if you might be able to bring yourself to look at me.”

She finally looks at him but with anger and disappointment in her eyes. She asks him, “What did that boy do to you?” and proceeds to tell him, as she had recently found out, that the whole thing was over a bet, which Aaron refuses to believe. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?” She asks him.

“What if it’s not something I’ve done? What if it’s who I am?” he says a split second before she slaps him across the face.

“Don’t say that!” she screams. “Don’t you ever say that. God can’t forgive you. He can forgive you for what you’ve done, for making a mistake…. But who you are? He can never forgive you for that.”

I’ll ruin the entire movie if I tell anymore about it, and I highly recommend it to all two of my readers. Suffice it to say that what happens in the remaining minutes of the story is, in my opinion, very poignant, moving and encouraging to any young (or not so young) man, struggling with the contradiction between what he’s been taught in his religion and what he’s feeling within himself. At some point we each have to learn to go our own direction. We have to learn not to blindly accept what others tell us, but to learn what’s true for ourselves.

Having been raised in, what I’m now hearing referred to as, a fundamentalist household, it was very hard for me to come to terms with my sexuality. I was told, over and over again, my entire life that homosexuality is a sin. That homosexuals are going to hell. It was made abundantly clear to me from a very early age that it was not an acceptable way to live. And as a result, never once have I discussed with my family the possibility that I may have different feelings and desires, let alone what I now know to be a fact, that I am gay.

As I sat in my chair, and watched as Aaron said, “What if it’s who I am?” I felt that slap across the face as if I were the one standing in that kitchen. I felt the contempt, the lack of compassion, of understanding, the inability to “love the sinner”, as if my mother were standing in front of me telling me that it’s not ok to be who I am. That I must live the rest of my life denying how I feel so I can spend eternity in heaven and not in hell. And in the end, I felt Aaron’s strength and resolve as he decided for himself what is right and what is true and how he wants to live his life. And as he set out in the world and took his destiny in his own hands and found a life for himself it occurred to me, that I have to do the same.

Maybe it was Aaron’s strength when he went home to face his family and his church. Maybe it was his resignation when he finally gave in to his desires and made love with Christian. Maybe it was his determination when he left his family and his home for the last time to live his life on his own terms. Maybe it was entirely a coincidence. But when I turned off the TV after the movie was over, I sat and stared at the darkened screen lost in thought about what I had just seen.

And that’s when it occurred to me. For many years now, I have been “Wishin’, and hopin’, and thinkin’, and prayin’, planning and dreamin’.” Anything but doin’. And if there’s anything you can count on, it’s that wishing and hoping, thinking and dreaming will get you nowhere, and it will get you there real fast. Only doing, only taking action will get you what and where you want in this world.

And so from that moment I have made up my mind to take action. Some actions are smaller than others. Some are as simple as getting up and cleaning up the house instead of sitting in front of the TV wishing the house was clean. Some actions are larger. I’m making a plan. Making a concerted effort to take control of my life and get my finances in order. I know it will take time, but I’m going to do it. No longer can I allow myself to throw my money away on wishes (“I wish I had…”) I’m going to plan and be more frugal and pay off my debts and make the best use of the money I have. I’m going to stop being afraid to lack, to go without something for a time. And when I get my finances in order, I’m going to start pursuing more interests. I’m going to take classes in the things than interest me. I’m going to join a gym (and actually use it.)

I’m going to make my life mine and I’m going to live it for me and no one else. No longer will I make my decisions based on what I think someone else wants to see, or how someone else wants me to act. People don’t have to like everything they see, they just have to respect me the way I am.

And on that note, I’ve got to close this down. I’m still at work and I’ve got to get home. I have dishes to wash, and dinner to make (a salad I think), and push-ups and crunches to do.

Some of my recent posts have had to do with my sucky job and how I hate my boss, etc., etc. I’ve had this job longer than any other job I’ve ever had, six and a half years, and I wish that could be something I could be proud of, but I have long since come to feel that I’m trapped and doomed with this job. Many times the last line of the song “Hotel California” by the Eagles has resonated with me, as applies to my employer.

It’s been such an apropos analogy that I couldn’t resist any longer. Please enjoy my rendition below of “The Company that Created the HMO”:

On a dark desperate highway, urgent need, I don’t care
Warm smell of dark side cookies, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, was shone a shimmering site
My heart grew hopeful and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for my plight
There He stood in the doorway;
Where I ignored alarm bells
Well I was thinking to myself,
’this could be heaven or this could be hell’
Then He lit up a smile and showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say…

Welcome to “The Company that Created the HMO”
Such a lovely space
Yeah, you’ll like this place
Plenty of room at “The Company that Created the HMO”
Any time of year, yeah you’ll like it here

Your mind is definitely-twisted, he’s got a Mercedes Benz
She’s got a lot’s of expensive, pretty toys, and climbs over her “friends”
How they dance in the graveyard, sweet victim’s regret.
Some dance to remember, some would die to forget

So I called up the boss man,
’please grow you a spine
He said, ’I haven’t had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine’
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the your day
Just to hear them say…

Welcome to “The Company that Created the HMO”
Such a lovely space
Yeah, you’ll like this place
We’re livin’ it up at the “The Company that Created the HMO”
What a bad surprise, kiss your hope good-bye

Mirrors show reflections,
of something you’ve grown to hate

She said ’we are all just prisoners here, you’re just one more inmate
And in the boss’s office,
They gathered for relief
He stabs you with his steely knife
In the back, your defeat

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I have to find a way to get back
To the place I was before
’relax,’ they all told me,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave!

I’m having a real issue this week with people who just don’t get simple logic. It seems to exist in every aspect of my life and honestly, I just don’t understand how there can be some many fucktards in this universe.

It started with my childhood with Vengeful Mother and her inability to consider my feelings and opinions, even if she doesn’t agree with them. It’s ever present in the current political culture as examined in my previous post. But it’s a constant factor in my work life.

I’ve written before about my hatred of my job, but just case you’re not up to speed let me tell you:

I HATE MY JOB!!!!!

Last week I brought up an issue in our departmental staff meeting that I knew full well would blow up into a free-for-all hate fest, but that’s just what it needed to be. I work in a department of only five people, including me, and we’re enclosed in a small space smaller than some of your apartments. There’s the Fitness Freak Financial Analyst who is clearly dissatisfied with her job. She does a pretty good job of playing her cards close to the vest but she’s let it slip a few times that she’s not happy in her job, that she’s been assigned too much work that doesn’t pertain to her job duties, not to mention doesn’t pertain to our department. She isn’t happy with the way things are managed in our environment, and I can’t say that I blame her.

Then there’s Country Dumbkin, our Conference Coordinator. She’s 3006 years old and has the intelligence of a four year old. She’s Passive Aggressive and immature and she is always catered too by our department manager. She gets special treatment and whenever there’s a disagreement between her and another person (or about her) the other person is always told to be nicer to her, to give her a break, to be more understanding, etc., etc.

There’s the Unsvelt Girl Who Runs. She’s the department “Adminary” but she’s not really all that valuable. Not because she’s not valuable, but because she’s not treated with a whole lot of respect. Country Dumbkin does UGWR‘s job on a whim, but only if she likes the person. People call her directly for things that should be brought to UGWR. Oh, and then CD complains about having too much work to do and not being able to get her own job done in a timely manner because she’s always “having” to do UGWR‘s job.

And of course let us not forget Douche Bag. DB is our department manager, though it’s hard to call him “manager” with a straight face, or without gagging. DB’s job is to manager his people, to keep the peace, to keep things moving smoothly, oh!, and to set a good example. In truth DB is a male chauvinist, he’s passive aggressive, he’s forgetful, he’s unreliable, he’s oblivious and he’s a “Yes man”. If you’ve read my blog in the past, these are probably not revelations for you.

As a rule of thumb, I go into the office everyday, trying my hardest to avoid people, and situations because they all end up being frustrations and illogical. Douche Bag in many ways is the worst offender, but after last weeks staff meeting, I actually thought maybe, JUST MAYBE, there was a chance that things had finally come to light. After suggesting a reasonable solution to a major problem we have, (closing our office at lunch time so we don’t have coverage issues – the solution, not the problem) and Country Dumbkin launched into her anticipated rant, DB finally acknowledged that there were probably bigger issues at hand and that we should meet individually so that we could candidly discuss our issues.

I met with Douche Bag and I laid it on the line for him. I explained the issues with Country Dumbkin, the issues between Unsvelt Girl and CD and the fact that UG doesn’t feel comfortable talking to him about it because every time she does he comes down on her and makes promises, he doesn’t keep. Nothing ever changes. The conversation went on for more than an hour and when it was finished he promised to make this his top priority and let everything else go until things were resolved. And then he blinked his eyes and it was all forgotten.

Today, Douche Bag has been unreasonably hostile to everyone and he even laid into Unsvelt Girl as she was walking out the door, already off the clock, because he didn’t like the way something looked that she didn’t even do.

It’s true what they say. The fish really does rot from the head down. And my company is a fuckin’ great white whale! (They still count as fish, right?) Everywhere I turn, there are attitudes, and egos, and complexes galore! This place is run on emotion and self-centeredness and self-righteousness, pompousness and arrogance, manipulation and superiority complexes. Everyone is a yes man, and the only way to stay afloat is to be just as manipulative and demanding and self-absorbed as the person above you.

Now I understand that, I probably sound like I’m the one with problem (If everyone in the world is crazy except myself, then I probably need to take another look) and that it would be easier, at least in theory, if I stop resisting and “go with the flow.” But I just can’t do that. I believe, in all sincerity, that the actions that come about in this place, the way people behave based on these attitudes is ethically wrong (sometimes, maybe even morally.) It’s not OK to treat one person with higher priority than another. It’s not OK to set precedence for one group and turn around and say, “no” to another. It’s not OK to bury your head in the sand while your peers – or teammates – tear each other apart and then pretend that everything is fine. And if I allow myself to be swayed, to be convinced to participate in this behavior, I’m compromising myself and my principles for something I don’t believe in, or care about. I can’t do that. I WON’T do that.

The logo for the hell hole of a company I work for is a representation of three people of varying heights with what is supposed to be rays of sunshine washing over them. The logo’s official name within the company is “The Sunshine Family.” A few years ago I had the opportunity to work briefly with a Project Manager who was also an Interior Designer with great artistic ability. In one of our meetings for a project she sketched out the logo for purposes of demonstrating something we’d been discussing. She referred to “The Sunshine Family” as “the burning people” because that’s more along the lines of what it looks like. Well, I must say that “the burning people” has always stuck in my head because it’s feels so right.

This company is HELL, and the people in it are burning, they just don’t know it yet.